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Part 1: The Call and the Demand: Reflections on a Bhajan Śrī Dīpnā Rāmbhāgavān Kī. A memory from Australia comes to mind, reflecting the atmosphere here on this island. It was a television advertisement. People in Queensland are famous for being very relaxed. The ad, for a telephone company, showed an old retired couple sitting on their veranda, looking at the sunset. The phone inside the house starts ringing. It rings and rings. After some time, the wife says to her husband, "That will be the phone, Reg." There is no movement; they both just sit there. After about five more rings, Reg simply goes, "Yeah." I can imagine that happening here. So, for Guru Vakya Part 2, Swāmījī said I should also sing and translate the bhajan "Prabhu Mere." At first, I thought that would be easy because I know its meaning. But I had never really worked on it in detail, so for two hours last night I tried to figure out the meaning more precisely. I recall that yesterday's bhajan emphasized that you must actually demand what you want from the Guru. You cannot be satisfied with just a little. If you want mokṣa, then go for mokṣa. "Gurudev, you are the one to give it, please." Initially, when Swāmījī mentioned these two bhajans, I did not see a connection between them. But I guess that is the connection, because the same attitude is present in this bhajan. "Prabhu" – O Lord, O Gurudev. Yesterday we spoke about the word "guṇa." Here, too, it is used in the sense of "guṇa" and "avaguṇa" – guṇa being the good qualities and avaguṇa the vices, the negative qualities. "Chitta nādhāro" means "please don't look at that." Do not direct your attention to it. Do not keep it in mind. "Please, I know I have negative qualities, but please do not put your attention on that." "Sam darśī hai nāma tīhāro." "Nāma" is the name you are called. "Sam darśī" comes from "sam dṛṣṭi." Whenever Swāmījī speaks about the qualities of a saint (Sant Bhāva), he mentions several qualities, often starting with 'S' or 'Sh': Sādhaka (always feeling like a practitioner), Śiṣya (always as a disciple), Śānta (peaceful), Santoṣa (satisfied), and Samdṛṣṭi. This is the quality we are speaking of now. "Dṛṣṭi" means "to see," like darśana. "Sam" means "same" or "equal." You see everything as equal. So, one could call a "Samdarśī" someone who has this equal vision, not distinguishing between good and bad, valuable and less valuable. A very beautiful story about this quality comes to my mind. On the bank of a river, there lived a sādhu who was very respected; everyone knew him. There was a very poor man who thought, "I might go to him; maybe he can help me. If a saint cannot help, then who would be able to?" He went to the sādhu, bowed down, and the saint asked him what he wanted. The man explained his difficult life situation and asked for help. But the saint said, "You know, I am a sādhu. I have renounced everything. You have come to the wrong person. I am not a rich person who could give you a donation. Go to the rich; they might give you something." He clearly stated he could not help. The man was very disappointed and started to walk away. After about a hundred meters, he heard the saint call him back. He returned and asked what was the matter. The saint said, "Something came to my mind. Maybe ten or fifteen years ago, I found some precious stones here in the sand. Of course, I had no use for them, but I thought maybe someone else might one day. It seems you really need them. I will try to find where I buried them." He went to a certain spot, dug a little, and found the precious stones he had hidden many years before, and gave them to the man. The man was overjoyed. His thought had been right; the saint could really help. After saying "thank you" many times, he left happily. The saint settled down again for meditation. After about an hour, the man returned and disturbed him. The saint, a little upset, asked, "Do you still not have enough?" The man, in a very humble voice, said, "When you gave me this stone, I realized that for you it is nothing. You had no use for it. How rich you must be that even such a precious stone is nothing for you. I have come to return this stone to you. Please, share with me the treasure you have inside." The saint then understood that this man truly had spiritual longing, and he accepted him as a disciple. I think this is a good example of Samdṛṣṭi – someone for whom gold and sand are just the same. In the bhajan, the meaning is that God and the Guru look upon every person with equal vision: just God's children, lost in ignorance, just spiritual seekers. So now the devotee goes to the Guru and says, "You are called the Samdarśī. 'Sahito pāra karo' – if you want, you can carry me across the ocean." The devotee then gives some arguments, a "sūradṛṣṭi" in this case. "Ik loha pūjā meraktā" – "loha" means iron, or what is made from iron, like a weapon or a knife. So, one knife is used, for example, in pūjā to cut the prasāda. Another is in the house, used by a "vareka," a butcher or killer. These two knives are completely different. Here we have the words guṇa and avaguṇa, the good and bad qualities. One knife is like a holy knife, the other like a murderer's knife. But the "paras" stone (the philosopher's stone) that transforms iron into gold does not consider this difference. It is just the basic quality – it's iron – so it transforms it into "karo," genuine, pure gold. The second argument: "Eka nāḍījā, eka nāla kā habitā." "Nadījā" is a river, perhaps a holy river. "Nāla" is a small channel. "Melo hi nira bharjo" – "nira" is water, "melo" means dirty. So this channel is filled with dirty water. "Jaba milagā" – when they come together, "ek baranbāj" – then they become one. It took me a long time to figure out the word "sursarī." After much research, I believe it is another spelling for Sarasvatī. So now this water, as a river, is called the holy river Sarasvatī. The third argument from Sūradāsa: "Ek jīva, ek brahma kahāvata." One is called the jīva (the individual), and the other is called brahma (God), or jīvātmā and paramātmā – the individual soul and the highest Divine Self. "Sūryaśyāma" – he calls himself Sūryaśyāma. "Sūrya" means the sun; it refers to the fact that he could not see the sun because he was blind. "Śyāma" is a name for Lord Kṛṣṇa; he was a devotee of Lord Kṛṣṇa. So he says clearly, "Suraśyam jagaro." "Jagaro" means to argue, to quarrel, not to accept. He says, "But I do not want to accept this difference. Are you not the one who sees everything with equal vision? Are you not the one who can overcome this duality? Are you not the one who can carry me across the ocean if you just want?" Here again is that very clear attitude of demanding from the Guru: "Please, this is now the time to carry me across. I do not want to wait anymore. Now, please, liberate me now. If you do not do it... it is like you give up your status among men. You are losing your reputation. You are not fulfilling your promise," directly referring to this quality of Samdṛṣṭi. The Guru could say, "But you are not ripe, you are not fit, you are not purified." And the disciple says, "I know. But please, nevertheless, accept me and liberate me." The Guru is searching for just this type of bhakti. Swāmījī says: when a child is happy with toys, the mother does not care too much. She is cooking in the kitchen, looking from time to time; the child is still busy. But when the child leaves all the toys behind and comes running into the kitchen to the mother, then the mother knows she really has to care for the child. This is another way of expressing what the story said. We have to check if we really have this deep, 100% longing. Are we ready to return the stone to get the inner treasure? Or are we still playing with that precious stone? In the bhajan, there is a moment where it seems to stop and then starts again. I will give you a sign so we are all in harmony. (Bhajan is sung) Prabhujī, mer avaguṇa chitta na dhāro. Prabhujī, mer avaguṇa chitta na dhāro. Sam darśī hai nāma tīhāro. Sam darśī hai nāma tīhāro... Ik loha pūjā meraktā, ik varakī kā paryo. Kāñcana karata karo... Eka nāḍījā eka nāla kā hāvatā, melo hī nira bharjo. Jaba milagā eka baranbāj, surasarī nāma paryo... Eka jīva eka brahma kahāvatā, sūryaśyāma jagaro. Ab kī bāra mahī pāra uṭhāro, nahīṃ prāṇa jāta tihāro... Prabhu, mīr avaguṇa chitta na dhāro... After Reg said "Yeah," he again did nothing. They just sat in their chairs, looking at the sunset. This was an advertisement for a telephone company, and it just said: "We can make your connection, but we can't make them pick it up." Or, "We can establish a connection, but we can't force them to pick up their headphones." I think it's a good ad. Swāmījī can give us the connection. But are we going to pick it up, or just sit there? "That will be the phone, Reg." All that Swāmījī teaches us, all that we talk about – we have to pick up the phone and listen to his message. To actually answer, interact with it, and put it into practice. These two bhajans have been, somehow, about being a little bit demanding. There is one story I particularly like from India in the 1970s. In Gujarat, the price of food and everything had risen extremely, making it very difficult to feed families. Nothing was being done by the government. One lady had had enough. She took a ṭāli (a metal plate) and her rolling pin for chapatis. At six o'clock in the evening, she went outside her house and stood at her front door. For five minutes, she banged the ṭāli with the rolling pin. Then she went back inside. The neighbors asked what she was doing. She said it was her protest against the rising prices, to register her protest with the government. This really happened. The next day, the neighbors did it too. At six o'clock, they were outside for five minutes, banging their ṭālis. The next day, it was the whole village. In modern terms, it went viral. From village to town to district, within ten days, all over Gujarat, at six o'clock, all the ladies were outside their houses with a ṭāli and a rolling pin, banging. It made a lot of noise, especially in a city like Ahmedabad with seven to eight million people. Everyone was doing it. It was so simple, so small, but so disturbing for the government. They got so confused they sent the army to Gujarat to try and stop these ladies from banging their ṭālis. How do you manage that with the army? The army got there, had a look, and actually refused to do anything. This is the only time in Indian history the army refused a government order. Of course, the government had to do something because it was completely out of control. It was so simple, so non-violent. You cannot say it was peaceful because it was so loud, but the message was there, and something got done. In these bhajans, it is about demanding that Gurujī hear our prayer and give us that blessing. But how do we make it heard? Not with a ṭāli – Swāmījī would probably take our ṭālis away! From inside, when it was one person, it was such a small noise. Every small thing we do in our sādhanā, in our practice, is a small noise on its own. But when we do ten small things, it starts to become noisy. When you do a hundred, it starts to become something. When your whole being is involved in small, small practices throughout the day, then it makes a lot of spiritual noise towards Gurujī: "Listen to me!" That one lady on her own was insignificant. Every small thing in our practice may seem insignificant alone. But together, they make something special. There are images in the bhajan of the paras maṇi turning iron into gold. I remember reading about a similar aim in alchemy, to turn mercury or lead into gold. What I recall is that the search in that practice was always to have a purity of the fire to be able to do it. In our practice, it is important to find and realize that purity of fire within ourselves so that we can do it. That purity is tapasyā in our sādhanā. It has nothing to do with lighting an external fire. It is about making this inner fire so pure that it transforms us from within. For me, that paras maṇi is when, inside, you see everything as a spiritual opportunity. When you look at things in the right way, with the attitude of a spiritual seeker, with awareness, they carry a great spiritual vibration. That is gold for you, because it develops you, stimulates you, nourishes you. If someone comes with a really bad vibration, someone you may not like at all, you do not choose to spend time with them. But it is still gold because if you keep your spiritual awareness in that moment, you see where you are and how disturbed you are by that vibration. You do not seek out such interactions, but when they happen, you can still learn from them. It is something you can treasure. If you are in a place like this and can have a relaxing week, it is gold because you can be with your mind, slow down, observe yourself, and reestablish the relation within yourself. Every situation, if that awareness is ringing within you, if all those ṭālis are banging within you, everything becomes gold. That is the paras maṇi. That is what we are searching to have within ourselves. That is what Swāmījī can give to us, or what we can start to manifest within us. But it requires us to be open, and it requires us to pick up the phone. How many times does he give us the message? We listen and listen... It is ringing and ringing and ringing, but we are not putting it into practice. As Swāmījī said last night, he has been teaching that for 40 years. Okay, it does not matter that the phone has rung so many times. At least now we should pick it up. Or, pick it up again and reestablish that practice we had: always being aware of where we are and what we are doing, and being honest with ourselves. Part 2: The Spiritual Journey: Progress, Presence, and Unshakable Focus But not being aggressive, not being mean, not judging ourselves. There is no sense in being angry with yourself about what you have done or haven’t done. Instead, be realistic. Just take that next moment and try to do—whatever we do—try to do it better. We must constantly move forward and, spiritually, try to make more and more of those tales be ringing, to make more and more of that spiritual vibration come from within us. In one way, this task is huge, something so, so difficult. But in another way, the moment we have in our hands right now is not so daunting. Don’t look at the whole big picture, but just at what you can do now, what you can do today, in this hour or this minute. In a small, small way, keep adding things to it—a spiritual bank account, somehow. Sometimes I have this image: our ātmā comes into this body when we are born and will go onwards when this body leaves us. That ātmā comes into this body with a certain karmic bank balance. Whether it is very positive or has a bit less inside, we cannot at all change the balance we had at the start. All we can try to do is make sure that, at the end, the balance is more than when we started this life. That may be enough to attain mokṣa in this life, or it may not be enough. But to look at this journey just in terms of one lifetime is a very limited perspective. This journey is longer than that, and we have to move along it. If you want to go to Strelka from here and you say, "No, I want to do it in two hours," and if you can’t reach there in two hours, you just won’t go, then you will never reach Strelka. It is just too far. But depending on where we are, we can at least get to the Croatian border or to the mainland. We have a chance here, a chance with Swāmījī. We have to make the most of it. Somehow, it is as if the road is completely clear of traffic, and we can go as fast as we possibly can on that road at this time. It is not the time to stop for coffee and lunch. It is time, spiritually, to really move, to really make that effort, that sādhanā. We must take everything Swāmījī teaches us and put it into every part of our day, put that awareness into everything we do, and take the chance. Before we go, I would like to say some thank yous. First to Vivek Purī and Ānandajī for organizing everything, to Hem Vatidjī, all those organizing here, the video people, everybody involved in making this seminar possible. Thank you very, very much. And thank you to everybody for coming, and to Ish for being here. And, of course, to Swāmījī for making it all possible. That will be the phone reach. Thank you, and please look forward to seeing you soon. Tonight we are in Rijeka, tomorrow in Zagreb, then in Vienna on Friday. Then I am back at home—although swamis don’t have homes, but Jadan is for me—and I look forward to seeing you all there also. Enjoy. Śrīdīp Nārāyaṇa Bhagavān Kī Jai, Satyagrudeva Kī Jai. Everything that starts has to have an end, so it is also the same for this seminar. After one week, it is finished, and we will have to say goodbye. But I hope it will stay in our memory. This seminar was so pleasant and nice; it was not only about the nature. The main role was from Swāmī Jasrāj Purījī. As he said at the beginning, he was thinking when coming to Europe, "Is he going to talk about some ślokas?" But what is very important is that he was talking from his own experience, from his childhood and everything he experienced in Jadan. He made the path of yoga alive. One thing is to read and know about it; another is to see in each detail of your life the same thing you have learned and read about. And as he gave the story of that advertisement, I assume that picture will stay in your mind forever. Yoga is taught through stories, and those stories stay in our mind forever. Maybe we will experience the same thing, being in a chair and saying, "The telephone is ringing." But in that moment, we will remember Swāmī Jasrāj Purījī, we will pick up the phone, and in this way, we will survive one more day. As you could hear here, the beauty is not to judge yourself, not to put too much load. You should survive another day. Because of these wonderful satsaṅgs, I would like to say one more time that we can all thank Swāmījī, who sent Swāmījī Āśāraj Purī to us in Europe. For these beautiful satsaṅgs, I can only say one more time: thank you, Swāmījī, for sending Swāmījī Āśāraj Purī into Europe. And here was our Gajānandījī, who put it all in place with beautiful singing of bhajans and interpreting them. One more thing: everything you have received here, keep it and give it, so that all can see the change in us, the change for the better, so that in this way we can survive another school year. Thank you. Now, traditionally, we will give the shawl and the dakṣiṇā to Swāmī Jasrāj and Swāmī Gajananjī. And now this bhajan that we were singing, we will sing in Croatian: O Spodem, spodem, postoje asur dāsī, Kṛṣṇa, jedno su. It has been quite an experience for me to spend so much time with Gajānandjī, and I think it has been the same for him. It has been an absolute pleasure and joy to be together giving satsaṅg. In Strelka, it was really like a game of tennis. I never knew what was going to come next. Someone would say something, and it was clear the ball went across the net; then Gajānandjī would say or sing something and return the ball to me. It was such a joy to find out what would happen next. Gajānandjī, thank you very much. It was really a pleasure. I would like, if you don’t mind, before going... No, no, I get the last word, sorry. I want to win the match, so I am going to hit the ball last. If you don’t mind, I want to tell one story I have told many times, but I know I didn’t tell it here. Perhaps people are bored of it, but I am not bored of thinking about it. It is about Guru Līlā. This happened a week before coming to Europe. I know from Swāmījī it was like a practice. It involved a webcast. Swāmījī was sick after Māṭājī left her body. In his exhaustion, he got a fever. He was resting and said, "Okay, tonight you give the webcast. I will stay in my room and rest." For me, that is a really bad constellation, knowing Swāmījī will be sitting upstairs watching. But, Guru Vākya. I feel quite funny talking in front of Swāmījī, even knowing he is on the screen. What should you say? The webcast started. The video team was there: in Jadan, Divya Purī from Hungary and Abhyānandjī from Slovenia. He regards himself as part of the team; he just likes looking at the computer screen. They were there with the camera ready. The webcast was going on. Maṅgal Māṇājī always sits in this corner of the Bhakti Sāgar. As I was speaking, Maṅgal Māṇājī’s phone rang. She never answers her phone during satsaṅg—unless it is Swāmījī. When she answered, we knew who it was. She was on the phone, there was some discussion, and I kept speaking. She went over to the video boys, discussion went on, and suddenly they tried to pick up all that webcast equipment, crawl across the floor, and put it over there—without disturbing anything, while the camera was still running. I tried to keep talking as that was going on. Maṅgalmānījī explained to them something Swāmījī said on the phone, and across the floor they went with the laptop and modem under one arm, the camera here, trying to stay down. They carefully took the laptop under the chair, slowly tried to get out, all while the webcast continued. Then they set everything up, and the webcast went on. Maṅgalmaṇījī sat in her place again. After five minutes, her phone rang again. She came back, they moved back, same system crawling across the floor. Then she sat down. The webcast continued, and of course her phone rang again. She stood up, came over, they went back over there. Everybody watching was starting to find this quite amusing. The topic was something like remaining peaceful and not being disturbed by what is going on around. Now, Maṅgalmaṇī sat down, five minutes passed. The phone rang; she was on the phone to Swāmījī again. She came over to the video team. Then it really started to be one of Swāmījī’s masterpieces. Avatār Purī came through the door. He had been upstairs with Swāmījī. He came through, obviously with a message that the camera should move from there to there. But in the meantime, while he walked down, the camera had already moved. Maṅgal Māṇī was on the phone with Swāmījī telling her it should go this way. Then Maṅgal Māṇī and Avatār Purī started arguing. Avatār Purī was saying, "But Swāmījī said it should go this way." Maṅgalmaṇī was saying, "But Swāmījī is on the phone saying it should go this way." Avatārpuri went, "But Swāmījī said..." During all this, the webcast was going on. After further discussion—maybe Avatār Purī got the phone to talk to Swāmījī—it moved again over here. Then Maṅgal Maṇajī sat down again. Everything settled with the camera here, the webcast continued; I remained peaceful. Then the phone rang again, Maṅgalmanājī’s phone. She took out some paper and started writing something really big. She made a tour around the back of the Bhakti Sāgara, behind everybody, and came and stood just here with this paper in her hand, in front of me. Obviously, I should read it. At this point, Divya Purī and Abhayanand started laughing, really rolling, because Maṅgal Māṇājī was trying to remain off-camera. But there was a glass door behind me, and they could see everything in the door’s reflection on the camera. The picture was so good you could almost read what was written on the paper. The webcast went on. On the paper was written: "Swāmījī says, ‘Don’t be disturbed.’" But there may be a storm coming, and everybody is going to go and close their windows. At that point, everybody in the Bhakti Sāgara, except Divya Purī, left. Some were closing the windows in the Bhakti Sāgara; the rest went to their rooms to close windows. Then the ones in the Bhakti Sāgara also went out. The webcast was going on. It was just me, Divya Purī, and Swāmījī. In the morning, Swāmījī came down giving darśan to many people because of Māṭājī’s passing. In a free moment, he leaned over to me and said, "You know, when you’re giving satsaṅg, you should never be disturbed." Yes, Bābājī. Guru Līlā. He never stops playing. It never stops being interesting. He doesn’t have a rest. Even when he is up in his room with a fever, he still is. It was such a great lesson about just keeping doing what you are doing and not being disturbed by what is going on around. If you are giving a satsaṅg, then give a satsaṅg. It doesn’t matter if only Divya Purī is there or if it is full. It really doesn’t matter where the camera is. If you are meditating, then just meditate. It doesn’t matter about the noises outside. I remember in Strelka, there was one prayer where a child came for the first time. He took the bell and started ringing it. It was beautiful. But I sensed a few people thinking, "Oh, this is not normal." If you are disturbed—if Lakshmana’s dog walks through in the middle of prayer and you are disturbed by it—you are not doing prayer properly. Because at that moment, what is important is just you and your relation with the altar, with Mahāprabhujī and Swāmījī, and the object of prayer. If you are the organizer and it is your responsibility to keep order, then that is your job. But if you are just here doing prayer, then do prayer. If you are doing āsanas, do āsanas. If you are doing seva, do seva. If you are taking care of your sick mother, at that moment, do it. Be in it, be in that moment. That is the sort of focus we need towards our sādhanā. Especially when meditating, noises will always be around. Who cares? If you are inside and with yourself, then noises are not disturbing. It is our relation to them that makes them disturbing. He may come to satsaṅg and say, "No matter how much noise the world will make, if we are in the satsaṅg and that is our focus, then we are in satsaṅg." So that was my story with Gurujī’s līlā, training before coming to Europe. At the time, it was a bit difficult to keep talking and, in the end, not to laugh, especially when they were all laughing at the camera. Afterwards, there was a replay upstairs. I live downstairs in Gurujī’s building; Divyā Purī and the boys live above. I could hear them upstairs. People who weren’t in the satsaṅg because they were working in the Omāśram were saying, "Oh, you’ve got to see this bit." They were replaying the video, especially the part when Maṅgalmanī was coming and standing there with her sign. Śrī Dīp Nārāyaṇa Bhagavān Kī Jai. No, this is good. Śrī Dīp Nārāyaṇa Bhagavān Kī Jai. Satguru Dev Kī Jai. Jaya Jaya Jīva Maheśvarānanda. Jaya Jaya Jīva Maheśvarānanda. Śrī Dīp Dayāloke Amṛtasis. Nithābadaso Ānanda. Prabhu Deepa Dayaluke Amrita Asis Nithabharasa Ananda Juga Juga Jeevo Maheshwara Ananda Juga Juga Jeevo Maheshwara Anandaji Dānyabhāgabhārata-bhūmika-prakate-bhālamukhanda Trītāpaka-pāpahārata-jeṣepona-macchānda. Jugga Jugga Jivoma Eshwarananda, Jugga Jugga Jivoma Eshwarananda. Sridhi Padayalukke Amritasis Nithabharasoh Ananda, Prabhupadayalukke Amritasis Nithabharasoh Ananda, Chugga Chugga Jeevo. Maheśvaraṇanda Chugga Chugga Jīvo Maheśvaraṇandajī Bhakti Jñāna Ora Yoga Sādhanā Brahma Jñāna Sukha Kaṇḍa viśva vichāyī ho mahā-samartha avichala jñāna-abhaṅgam chugga chugga jīvo maheśvaraṇandam Śrī Dīpadāyālu ke amṛtasis Nityabaraso Ānanda. Prabhu Deepadayālu ke amṛtasis Nithabaraso Ānanda Yoga Yoga Jīvoma Eśvarānandajī. Apnā rūp samajh kar sabh ko karte ho nirabandha. Jīvanamukta kare bhaktānko vinnasvaratha niṣkandha. Dīvaṇa mūrtha kare bhaktoṅko Vīnāsvaratha nisakāṇḍa. Juga-juga jīva-maheśvarānanda, Juga-juga jīva-maheśvarānanda jīva. Śrīdhi-padāyāluke āmṛtāsi, Nita-baraśo ānanda Prabhu. Deepa Dayaluke Amritasis, Nithabharasa Ananda. Juga Juga Jiva Maheshwara Ananda, Juga Juga Jiva Maheshwara Anandaji. Śrīpūjā Bhagavān Dīpa Nārāyaṇa Rākhte Apne Saṅgha Śrī Madhavānanda Jī Ānanda Sekheta Meto Sabkā Pāṇḍha Śrī Madhavānandajī Ānanda Sekheta Metā Jagadukha Pāṇḍha Jughā Jughā Jīvomā Īśvarānanda Jughā Jughā Jīvomā Īśvarānanda Śrī Dīpa Dayāluke Amṛtaśiṣ Nityabaraso Ānanda. Prabhu Dīpā Dayāluke Amṛtaśiṣ Nithabaraso Ānanda Juga Juga Jīvo Maheśvara Ānanda Chukka Chukka Jīvam Maheśvarānandajī Ambole Śrī Dīt Nārāyaṃ Bhagavān Kī Jaya, Śrī Śrī Dev Puruṣa Mahādeva Kī Jaya, Dharma Samrāṭ Paramahaṃsī Svāmī Maravānand Purījī Mahārāj Kī Jaya. Vishwa Guru Mahāmaṇḍaleśwar Paramahaṁśrī Swāmī Maheśvarānand Purījī Satyagrudeva Kī Jai. Have a great journey home, a safe journey, and enjoy. Even when it’s hard, you may as well enjoy. Enjoy it being hard.